


Taste

by diemarysues



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:32:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I blame alkjira and her teasing. Direct sequel to chapter 7 of At Your Service.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [At Your Service](https://archiveofourown.org/works/950371) by [alkjira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira). 



> The [chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/950371/chapters/1905837) in question, which I suggest you read first.

“I was only getting started,” Dwalin grins.

 

It’s a matter of moments for them to get into the proper position – not that Dwalin is counting the seconds between ripping the wrapper with his teeth (very in keeping with a porno theme, he supposed) and watching Bilbo slip the condom on, his cheeks as red and flushed as certain parts of his anatomy –, the proper position being Bilbo straddling Dwalin’s broad chest as best he could, hands gripping the headboard tightly.

 

Honestly speaking, it’s the best view Bilbo could ever offer Dwalin (though perhaps sometime in the future they can explore the possibility of him being on his knees in front of the smaller man). It’s too bad that they couldn’t dispose of the condoms altogether, because he’d love that slick wetness all over his face.

 

Good fuck, if his mouth wasn’t watering before…

 

Bilbo peels one hand off the headboard to grasp the base of his cock. He moves forward just a little, dragging the head along Dwalin’s chin. Jesus, he could’ve had – spunk would be a bitch to get out of his beard, but he _wanted_ it. He wanted Bilbo to leave him sopping and sticky.

 

He traces his fingers into the ample crease between Bilbo’s fantastic arse and the tops of his thighs, mouth automatically having fallen open. That pretty, pretty cock is _so fucking close_ , so close to being heavy on his tongue, and he needs Bilbo to just use his mouth. He needs to feel the rawness of his throat for _days_.

 

His desire’s got to be clear on his face, because above him, Bilbo makes a strangled sort of noise. There’s barely any hazel around the blown pupils. “You… you’re…”

 

Dwalin has to swallow heavily (wishing he was swallowing Bilbo down) before he can prompt Bilbo to finish. Pun maybe sort of intended.

 

“You really, you want this.”

 

Well. Obviously. And, fuck, who can blame him? Bilbo’s prick is as gorgeous as the rest of him, and is definitely one of things he’d love to let Bilbo put in his mouth.

 

This makes Bilbo laugh. Dwalin would be insulted, but for the way his eyes crinkle and his hips rock forward – and his cock grazes Dwalin’s lips and _fuck_.

 

His fingers tighten their grip, squeezing, and he impatiently drags Bilbo closer. The cheeky sod is holding back, though, so Dwalin only gets the very tip into his mouth. So Bilbo wants to tease, does he? Dwalin can play that game.

 

Dwalin keeps solid eye contact as he sucks firmly, lips a tight seal around the head of Bilbo’s cock. If the condom wasn’t in the way he’d be fitting the point of his tongue into the slit, but as it is he traces it, feeling Bilbo shiver. His own body relaxes into the mattress, the musk and sweat of Bilbo filling his lungs as he breathes in deep.

 

Bilbo’s hips are making tiny, tiny jerks forward and backward. It’s clear that he’s trying to pace himself, trying to keep from letting everything fall apart too quickly, but Dwalin’s not having any of it. He’s stronger than Bilbo, after all, and lets his hands span across Bilbo’s arsecheeks. Then he yanks.

 

Bilbo almost shouts, his hand falling away as Dwalin takes as much of his length into his mouth as is possible. He valiantly tries to go further than that but chokes reflexively; it’s been, much to his chagrin, a long time.

 

Dwalin makes up for it by pressing the flat of his tongue against the underside of Bilbo’s prick, pressing against the slippery heat of it. He listens to the sounds he tears from Bilbo’s throat, laving extra attention whenever the cries and whimpers get louder and more desperate.

 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Bilbo chants, eyes squeezed tightly shut as his head lolls back in his pleasure. He heaps praises on Dwalin as he rocks his hips slowly. “You’re perfect, your mouth, your – ah, _aah_ , please –”

 

This is what he loves. Just as much as Dwalin relishes the taste and the feel of sucking cock, he loves the power he has over his partners. He loves being able to reduce them to sobbing pleas; he loves having fingers fisted in his hair and thighs tense around his head. He loves keeping them on the very edge of their release, only just keeping on to his control at the same time.

 

Somehow sucking Bilbo off is exponentially more arousing. It’s a headier experience than normal, the delicious movements and sounds from Bilbo making Dwalin harder than he’s ever been in his life. Experimentally, he lets his teeth just graze over the plump cock in his mouth – and the moan he gets in return is gratifyingly _loud_.

 

If he’d been able to, Dwalin would grin.

 

He knows he’s got spit slipping past his lips, and his jaw is just starting to ache, but Dwalin pulls back as best he can. Bilbo’s cock slides out of his mouth, velvet against his lips, and he whines at the loss. But Dwalin holds firm, hands possessive over Bilbo’s luscious cheeks.

 

“Fuck me,” he says, clearly, watching Bilbo’s eyes widen. “Take me. Make me feel it.”

 

He almost expects having to convince Bilbo – and he has no doubt that he’d be able to put his mouth to use in coming up with a persuasive argument – but he’s taken by surprise when Bilbo shifts to grasp Dwalin’s head more firmly.

 

Maybe he should stop being surprised that Bilbo’s more than what he seems.

 

Dwalin relaxes as best he can, eyes half-lidded. Bilbo fucks his mouth with long, slow strokes – at first. Dwalin can tell when Bilbo realises that he really, really wants this. He rises up higher on his knees and then moves in _earnest_ , and it’s all Dwalin can do to hold on. It’s all sweat and wet slurping and moans, and he’s only holding to Bilbo with one hand, the other flying over his own aching cock and –

 

The next time, they’re not going to fuck around with condoms.

 

The next time, he’s swallowing.

**Author's Note:**

> Nope not sorry whoops.


End file.
